Dark Places
by Emrys1
Summary: Bosco's fear of the dark gets him in trouble. Will Faith be able to save him in time? Story Complete (Finally!)
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: No infringement to the true owners of Third Watch is intended. I am receiving no profit from the characters or situations of Third Watch. Disclaimer: I do not own or receive profit from the characters or situations of the television show Third Watch. I believe that Warner Brothers and possibly NBC get all of that stuff. I write this stuff exclusively for the fun of it!  
  
  
It had been something of a bizarre call for all of those involved. In fact, they still were not sure of all the facets to this strange crime that had played itself out in the huge waterfront warehouse that was now swarming with police officers, paramedics and firemen. All they knew for sure was that drugs had been involved, a fire had started, and a hostage had been killed. Sully stood over the lifeless body of the young woman and silently wondered if she had had a family. A husband? Children? He allowed himself to wonder for only a little while and then protected himself by stopping the thoughts. He had been a cop long enough to know that empathizing with the victims could be harmful to his psyche.  
Ty looked on the body, and Sully could see the same wondering thoughts behind the younger man's eyes. Ty was a good cop, but he didn't have all the survival instincts that Sully had obtained over the years. Sully walked over to his partner, took a sip of his coffee and then cleared his throat.   
"C'mon, let's see if Faith and Bosco have found anything. The detectives will take it from here," he said as he distracted Ty by nudging him with his elbow. When Ty looked up, Sully saw a wounded look behind the other policeman's eyes.   
"C'mon," Sully said again kindly. Ty sighed and then shook off the feeling of despair he had begun to feel. He had a job to do.  
***  
Carlos and Kim sat in a doorway away from the main shuffle of the investigation. They felt out of place here where the only victim that needed attending to was dead, but they had been notified by dispatch to stay at the warehouse until it had been completely cleared by the police. If any suspects were still in the building, additional injuries might be sustained and it was only safe for the two paramedics to remain on scene.  
"Man, this is such a waste of time," Carlos muttered with exasperation. The warehouse had been cleared once by the cops, but some overzealous rookie had been sure that he had seen a figure fleeing a far, dark corner. Now here they were, waiting for the now obviously safe warehouse to be looked over a second time.  
Kim silently agreed with Carlos, but she held her tongue. She didn't particularly care where she spent this shift as long as she got paid for it. She had taken an overtime shift to help compensate for Doc's absence as he recovered from the injuries he had sustained in the street-side basement last week. But she also needed the money, and if that meant she was forced to sit in a warehouse doorway sipping coffee and waiting for the cops to go over the area a second time, she'd take it.  
Jimmy strolled by looking tired and sooty, and she nodded to him.  
"Hey Jimmy. Where was the fire? We weren't here to see it."   
Jimmy looked up to the open, second landing of the warehouse and motioned in its direction with a tired hand.  
"Up there. It got a little hairy for a while, but it's over now." He noticed Kim's coffee and looked at it longingly. It was late, and his tired body craved the caffeine.  
"Hey, can I have a sip?"  
"Oh, sure. Here take it. I don't want anymore." Kim said as she handed over the cup of steaming coffee.  
"Thanks." Jimmy replied and sipped it gratefully.   
"Man, this is so boring!" Carlos exclaimed.   
Kim noticed a ruckus going on in the center of the first floor of the warehouse. Bosco was yelling something unintelligible to Sully while Faith and Ty were attempting to hold him back. Kim smiled and felt her heart lighten a little as she realized that some things could always be counted on.   
"Tell that to Bosco," she said and then laughed loudly.  
Carlos shook his head with disgust.  
"You know, he gets on my nerves," the paramedic said sharply.  
Jimmy's smile joined Kim's laughter in response to Carlos' cynical statement.  
"Who doesn't get to you, Carlos?" he asked and then discovered that he was genuinely curious.  
"Well look at him!" Carlos yelled. "He's always in an uproar about something, and he's such a hothead."  
Kim's laughter became lighter and louder.  
"And you're not?!" she exclaimed sarcastically.  
Carlos chose to ignore her comment.  
"And you know, it's all a macho act. Did you know that he's afraid of the dark? I mean, a grown man, afraid of the dark," the young paramedic said, and a hint of revulsion tinged the tone of his voice.  
"Bosco? Afraid of the dark?!" Kim asked with disbelief. "I need proof before I believe that one, Carlos," she stated and then turned her back on her companion.  
"I'm serious! You should have seen him in that cellar last week when the flashlight went out. He was shaking in his boots!"  
"Yeah, yeah," Jimmy said dismissively. "Is this just another of your tricks, Carlos?"  
"I swear it's true! C'mon, I'll prove it to you."  
"Where are you going Carlos?" Kim called out as the other paramedic began to walk the perimeter of the dark warehouse.  
"Just c'mon! What else are we going to do while we wait for nothing to happen. I promise, it'll be fun."  
A mischievous glint entered Jimmy's eyes and he shrugged.  
"The fire's out, the building is pretty much cleared. He's right, we're just waiting around for nothing. C'mon, it'll be fun, and what's the harm?"  
Knowing that she was being a bit unprofessional, but also aware that Jimmy was downright irresistible when he was being mischievous she followed her two companions.  
***  
Bosco was angry. He despised calls like this where an innocent was dead and those responsible had escaped. For that reason he fumed and hollered at anyone and anything in his path. When Sully and Ty had approached him and asked if he and Faith had seen anyone, he had gone off on the older officer. Some small part of him had realized that he was being unreasonable, but for the most part he had enjoyed the complete release that the shouting offered him. It had felt good to take his frustration out on an individual who was standing right in front of him and who had not disappeared into the shadows as their suspects had. He had stormed off to the far side of the warehouse, and as he had left he heard Faith apologizing to Sully for him.  
Faith approached him now and regarded him with a mixture of irritation and concern.  
"You know, Sully's a good guy. You shouldn't take it out on him."  
He knew she was right, but he refused to admit it.  
"I don't care!" he yelled. "He was questioning us like we were a two rookies who couldn't find our own guns in their holsters not to mention two disappearing suspects!"  
"He was just asking a simple and reasonable question, Bozz! God will you just calm down! You're going to have a heart attack before you turn 35 at the rate you're going, do you know that!?"  
He forced himself to calm down when he heard the exasperated tone to her voice. He realized that she was as upset by the outcome of this crime as he was, and so settled down a little bit so that she would have one less thing to worry at her mind.  
"Okay, okay. I know you're right," he assured her.  
"Damn straight I'm right. I'm always right," she said with a smile that she reserved only for her hotheaded partner.  
He was about to respond when he heard Carlos call his name and beckon him over to where he, Kim and Jimmy stood with barely concealed anticipation. He shrugged to Faith and then sauntered over to where the paramedics and the fireman waited. Faith and her thoughts stayed where they were and turned to survey the disastrous scene of the warehouse crime gone bad.  
The mischievous threesome had found an extremely dark storeroom closet that one of the cops had assured them had been thoroughly searched for both suspects and evidence. It had been cleared of both and thus was the perfect room for their plan. They stood by the room's doorway now and waited for Bosco to reach them.  
"Hey Bosco," Carlos called out again. "Was this storeroom cleared? Kim and I have been watching the second search and didn't notice anyone check this room out."  
Bosco strode up to the dark room and peered into it distrustfully.  
"If you weren't sure that the room was cleared, what are you idiots doing standing right near it?" he asked with disgust. The three compatriots wisely chose to remain quiet, but they could scarcely contain their laughter.  
Bosco shook his head and took his flashlight off his belt.  
"Will you guys just stand back?!" he said with irritation. "What if there's a maniac waiting right behind that doorway?"  
Jimmy, Carlos, and Kim made a fake move away from the doorway, but when Bosco proceeded to enter the room, they moved forward. Quickly they grabbed the police officer's flashlight, nudged him into the room, and pushed the door shut behind him. All three were laughing as they leaned heavily on the door to keep Bosco from exiting the room.  
"You know, he's going to kill us," Kim said suddenly.  
"You're probably right," Jimmy responded.  
"Yeah, but it'll be worth it," Carlos said with a laugh.  
Suddenly Bosco began to throw himself against the door of the room in an effort to budge it.  
"Okay, this isn't funny guys," he yelled in a voice that was quickly becoming panicky.  
"Hear that?" Carlos asked. "See, he's scared. A grown man who is a NY police officer no less...afraid of the dark!"  
Jimmy and Kim laughed, and Bosco's yelling became louder and more desperate.  
"Maybe we better let him out," Kim suggested.  
Jimmy abruptly stopped laughing.   
"You know, he really does sound upset," the fireman said.  
"I think we'd better let him settle down first," Carlos said. "He still has his gun, you know."  
Bristling with maternal instincts, Faith was suddenly looming over them. They had not even seen her coming towards them.  
"What the hell do you three think you're doing?!" she yelled. As she did so, Bosco's efforts to open the door increased and his yelling became more frantic. Faith wasn't sure what was transpiring here, but she didn't like it. "Open that door and let him out!"  
The three mischief-makers complied, and Bosco suddenly burst out of the room. His eyes were huge and frenzied, and he was visibly shaken. He took a deep, but shuddering breath before he lunged for the nearest exit from the warehouse.  
Faith studied Carlos, Kim, and Jimmy angrily but said nothing for a moment.  
"Are you all crazy?!" was all she could manage to say when she found her voice.   
"Faith, we didn't think he'd get that upset," Kim said. She was clearly upset and regretful, but Faith would have nothing of it.  
"Well that makes it all better!" she yelled.  
"Honest, Faith. We didn't mean any harm," Carlos tried to placate her.  
"Just stay away from him," Faith responded and strode out of the warehouse to find her partner.  
She found him sitting in an alley adjacent to the warehouse. She kept her distance since she wasn't sure what to expect from her unpredictable partner, but she observed him intently. His back was to a wall that was wet and slimy and his hands were pressed to his head. His breathing was fast and heavy, and Faith was instantly concerned.  
"Bozz? You okay?" she asked quietly.   
He stood up at the sound of her voice and began to furiously pace up and down the alleyway.  
"No, I'm not okay!" he yelled back angrily. "God! Are they idiots?! What the hell are they thinking? Who does that to someone? "  
Faith realized that her partner was terrified and although she didn't completely understand why, she knew she would have to be careful. She stood quietly as Bosco ranted.  
"Do they know anything about it? Do they know anything about closets and dark places? God! I'd like to see one of them spend all night locked in a closet while their mother was getting beat up! I'd just like one of them to know how that feels! They'd never pull a stupid stunt like that again!"  
Suddenly realizing everything that had occurred when Bosco had been forced into the dark storeroom, Faith made a move towards him. But before she could get near him, she heard a gunshot echo loudly in the alley. She reached for her own weapon and dived behind a dumpster. Once there, she peered into the dim light of the alleyway and looked for her partner.  
"Bosco!" she screamed.  
The voice that yelled back to her was not her partner's, and the words it spoke chilled her to the bone.  
"Clear out of here, or I swear to god he's dead!"  
  
  
  



	2. part 2

Faith did not dare move until she knew exactly where the voice was coming from and whether or not Bosco was hurt, so she peeked around the corner of the dumpster and stared into the darkness. At first she could not see anything, but suddenly, she caught movement on the ground about 20 feet from where she was crouching. She then was able to vaguely discern the figure of her partner as he slowly sat up from where he had apparently been lying on the ground. She saw him gradually move back to the alley wall and then heard his voice as he broke into a long string of curses.  
"Bosco! Are you okay?!" Faith screamed desperately.  
"No, I'm not okay!" Bosco yelled to her for the second time that night. "That bastard shot me!"  
The cold voice that sent involuntary shivers up Faith's spine called out again.  
"I'll shoot you again if you don't shut up."  
"Do you know how much paperwork I'm going to have to fill out after I kill you?" Bosco snarled back. "Faith, shoot this idiot, and then I'll finish him off!"  
Faith groaned inwardly. Somehow it didn't surprise her that Bosco was terrified of the dark but was not phased in the least by gunshot.  
And then, a large, dark form made its way towards Bosco so swiftly that Faith did not have a chance to react before it had snatched her partner up from the ground with strength that she could not recall ever seeing before. Realizing that she could no longer shoot at the target and that her partner was now in danger, Faith moved to radio to the other officers in the warehouse for help.  
"Not a word officer unless you want to witness your partner losing his head," that sickening voice said again.  
Faith vaguely wondered how the man could have seen her move her head slightly in the direction of her radio. She could only barely make out the outlines of the shooter, her partner and the gun that was held between them. The darkness was overwhelming. But she didn't doubt that the shooter was serious or that he would hear her voice echo between the walls of the alley if she spoke into the radio. She moved her head cautiously away from that source of help and abruptly wished she was out of that alleyway and back in the boring warehouse environment. Her only hope was that the other police officers at the crime scene had heard the shots and would soon come to her aid.  
"Faith, will you just shoot this jerk, so we can go home!" Bosco yelled back to her. Faith could not help but smile, but her grin disappeared when she heard the stifled but pained cry that Bosco emitted when the shooter rigorously shook him. Bosco would not cry out unless he was seriously injured, and fear hit Faith hard in the pit of her stomach.  
"You know, you don't have a chance of getting out of here!" she called down the alleyway. "Do you have any idea how many cops are going to be out here in the next minute?!"  
"And do you know how dead your partner is going to be if I don't get out of here?" that voice replied with chilling composure. "Let me by, and I'll see that he lives. Keep me here for even 15 seconds longer, and he dies."  
Faith's thoughts were wild things flying through her mind, and she could not make one of them slow down so that she could catch it. Her hand shook imperceptibly, but she was aware of the tremor.  
"Faith, shoot him." Bosco continued to insist. But now his voice was dull and drifting, and Faith felt the last of her reason begin to slip.  
Without thinking and holding her weapon uselessly by the muzzle, she stood up. Adrenaline pumped furiously throughout her body, and she scarcely knew what was happening around her. She held her hands over her head and yelled to the gunman.  
"Go! But if you hurt him, I'll kill you."  
"Faith...don't" Bosco moaned, but her frightened mind could not focus on his plea. Instead, she was forced to listen to the gunman's voice which slithered around like a dark and wild thing in her ears.  
"Thank you," the shooter said in an unbelievably polite manner.   
Then he scooped up Bosco's now seemingly unconscious body with that incredible strength, and he swiftly maneuvered his way down the alley. He averted his face from Faith, so she could not see any feature which would clue her into his identity or allow her to recognize him later.  
"Don't follow," the man cautioned her as he passed. "Follow and he dies."  
"How will I find him then?" Faith asked desperately. The spinning thoughts of her mind were slowing, and for the first time she had the sudden suspicion that she was making a horrible mistake.  
"You'll just have to trust me," was the simple response she received to her question. And then the two men were gone from the alley.  
"Bozz," Faith whispered. Unsure of her decision to let the gunman go in order to save her partner's life, she pulled her hands through her hair in frustration. She clenched her teeth tightly in an attempt to hold back the anguished cry that was threatening to burst its way out of her. She had acted out of instinct and without any of the legal justifications she was forced to live by as a police officer. She was uncertain of the ramifications of her decision, but she had been completely unable to allow any further harm come to Bosco. It had been an inconceivable choice to allow Bosco to be killed when she had been handed an option that would save him.   
She stood still in the alley caught between the alternatives of following the gunman and getting help. She did not think long and made another instinctual decision. Calling into the radio, she left the alley and followed the path the gunman had taken.  
  
  



	3. part 3

Bosco's initial struggle to consciousness was not accompanied by any physical sensation. One moment he knew nothing, the next he only knew confusion. His vision was dark and blurry, and he could not make sense of the images his eyes were sending to his brain. He shifted position and tried to sit up, and that was when the pain hit him full force. Piercing daggers of fire scorched their way down his hip and through the upper part of his leg. His hissed with the pain, and his vision began to blur and darken further. Dizziness overwhelmed him, and he realized that he was about to lose consciousness again. He found himself thankful for that small escape from the pain and did not fight against it.   
And then a surprisingly sharp pain in his side abruptly forced him into complete consciousness. It was only then that he realized that he was lying on his side in a dark puddle of dampness, and that a pair of legs was hovering above him. He had only a second to see one of the legs draw back, before he felt that same sharp pain hit his ribs again as his assailant kicked him brutally.   
"It's time to wake up now, officer. I want to talk to you."   
"Where the hell am I?" Bosco snarled hoarsely. And then he yelped uncontrollably as he was viciously kicked again. This time he thought he felt the snap of a rib breaking, and he groaned awkwardly as he tried to recover his breath.   
"Shut up," his attacker said simply. "I said that I wanted to talk to you, and that means that if there are questions to ask, I'm the one to ask them. Understand?"   
Bosco had cobwebs strung up fuzzily within his mind, and he wasn't sure if he should answer the maniac who seemed to have all the power at the moment. Unsure of the consequences, he decided to answer him.   
"Yes, I understand."   
"Good. Now listen to me closely. I need answers, and you're going to supply them. Do you understand?"   
"Yes, I understand," Bosco repeated. He vaguely realized that the man who was holding him hostage was acting weirdly calm, and he wondered what sort of mess he had gotten into this time. And then he wished desperately for Faith's company; he suddenly did not want to be alone in this strange, dark place without her calming presence.   
"I want my drugs back, officer. How do you think I should go about achieving that goal?"   
"What?" Bosco asked confusedly. What was this idiot talking about?   
"The heroin in that warehouse. I paid good money for it, and so it's mine. I want it back. Where do you suppose it is right now?"   
"You want it back? Are you crazy or something?" Bosco's hot-headed nature allowed him to express a sharp barking laugh at the thought that this maniac actually believed he would be getting his drugs back after the bust.   
But laughing was a mistake, which he realized only after he received another crushing kick to his side. He began to wheeze with the simple effort of breathing, and the pain in his side flared into a fire that was almost as strong as the one in his hip.   
"I would suggest not laughing at me again. I won't stand for it. Do you understand?"   
Bosco now fully understood the precarious situation he was in and so attempted to think of how Faith would handle herself in the same circumstances. Consequently, he bit back the biting remark he had been about to fire back to his tormenter and remained as calm as he could manage.   
"I understand," he replied through gasping breaths.   
"Good. I'm glad we finally seem to have come to a complete understanding. Now, where will my drugs be right now if I were to look for them?"   
Bosco considered the question for a moment, but realized he didn't know the answer since it depended on the amount of time that had expired while he was unconscious.   
"How long have I been out of it?" he asked. "I need to know in order to answer your question," he hastily added.   
His captor sighed impatiently, and Bosco realized that this was the first sign of emotion that he had observed from the man.   
"About 15 minutes," the man said reluctantly.   
Fifteen minutes! Fifteen minutes! That was good, since it meant that they probably weren't too far from the initial crime scene. Maybe Faith would find him before he bled to death in the presence of this idiot. Bosco's thoughts became hopeful for the first time, and his heart began to hammer with that hope. But he forced himself to calm down, because his breathing was becoming difficult the faster his heart raced. Fireworks of light were beginning to explode in his vision.   
"Come on, come on," the shooter said as he prodded Bosco with his foot. "Where's my heroin?"   
"It's probably still in the warehouse," Bosco said truthfully.   
"Good. And your partner. That woman. Do you think she'll follow us even after I told her not to?"   
"What?" Bosco panted with confusion. What was this guy thinking about now?   
"Just answer the question. Will she look for you?"   
Bosco thought about it for a second. Although he desperately wished she were with him, he wanted even more to be able to answer negatively to the question forced upon him. Somehow Bosco didn't think that this maniac would hesitate to kill anyone who got in his way, and he did not want Faith to be caught in the crossfire of a crazy man's delusions. Faith had a family, kids. But an excruciating kick to his hip stopped any further thought, and Bosco found himself divulging the truth in a dull whisper.   
"Yes."   
"She'll follow us then. That's very good, officer. Now take a little rest."   
And then the fireworks returned with a penetrating pain in his head, and he knew nothing. 


	4. part 4

Faith felt desperate as she scrambled her way into the alley where she had last seen her partner carried. Bosco's captor moved amazingly fast, and she had fallen behind. It had started to rain, and as she cautiously moved down the alley water streamed down her face and into her eyes. Irritated, she wiped at her eyes to clear them from the water that was blurring them. Her breath came in fast sputtering breaths, and she wondered hastily where her backup was located since she had not heard a word from the other officers at the warehouse scene.   
She took a few hesitant steps down the alley, all the while hugging the slick brick wall of the adjourning building. She was wet and uncomfortable and overwhelmingly terrified for Bosco. But she fought back her apprehensions and forced her feet to continue down the alleyway.   
"Bosco, where the hell are you?" she muttered to herself through gritted teeth.   
Suddenly, she felt someone's hand grasp her ponytail and pull her head back painfully. She yelped involuntarily as she was drawn into a dark doorway which she had foolishly overlooked while her concentration had momentarily been broken by her preoccupation with Bosco's condition. Before she could react, her gun was painfully wrenched from out of her grasp and a powerful hand that she could not remove no matter how hard she struggled covered her mouth.   
"I told you not to follow," her nemesis said with his now familiar but still disturbing voice.   
With her mouth covered, Faith could only grunt a reply, but still she managed to express her anger.   
"Oh, now don't be that way, officer. I'm going to help you get what you want. You just have to cooperate. And if you don't cooperate, both you and your partner are dead. Now if I uncover your mouth, I expect you to behave properly. Do we have a deal?"   
Helpless, Faith had no choice but to concede. She nodded abruptly but was unsure if she would be able to keep her anger at bay when the man uncovered her mouth. She struggled momentarily with her conflicting emotions, and then finally managed to choke out a few civilized words.   
"What do you want?" she mumbled. She wanted to take some sort of physical action, but when she noticed the gun aimed directly at her heart, she forced her muscles to relax.   
"This will be very simple, officer," her captor said in an almost cheery tone. "You get my drugs out of that warehouse, and I'll give you the location of your partner. He's dying, you know. It's happening slowly, but with each breath he loses a little more blood and comes that much closer to his end. It really must be painful. It makes me almost sorry for him, even if he is a cop."   
Faith's muscles clenched, and she took a step toward the man.   
"Ah, ah, ah," her captor said sharply and waggled the gun in her direction as a warning. "It's behavior like that which will get you killed."   
Faith took a step back and put her hands down to her side. She could not remember a time when she felt more helpless.   
"Tell me what you want me to do," she said.   
***   
Two feet away and behind the door which lead to the alleyway in which Faith and her captor stood, Bosco lay on a cold and damp cement floor. Blood seeped slowly from his wounds to stain his uniform and mix with the rainwater pooling on the floor. His breathing was ragged and uneven, and he could not find enough breath to call out to his partner even though he heard her voice on the other side of the door.   
He had regained consciousness momentarily, but could not make sense of his surroundings. He felt cold and disoriented as he struggled to make his muscles obey him. He had an overriding urge to sit up, to get up and out of this dark place. And it was dark, overwhelmingly dark. The blackness in the room was like ink which had poured over him and threatened to drown him. As his awareness sharpened, his fear of this dark place grew, and he felt his heart pump faster with the panic that threatened to overtake him.   
Out! He had to get out of this dark place. Closing his eyes, he gathered the remainder of his strength, and pulled himself to a sitting position. Sudden and strong pain flared in his side and in his leg, and yet he did not have the breath to scream in the agony he felt. He sat gasping with the effort of having pulled himself up and tried to gather further reserves. If he was going to get out of this situation, he was going to have to find the energy to move and defend himself.   
Again he heard Faith's voice somewhere to his left and tried to yell for her. Again his body betrayed him, and he did not have the breath to utter a sound. In fact, he was wheezing very painfully now, and he realized that sitting had been an irrational urge and a great mistake. He should have begun crawling in the direction of his partner's voice instead of wasting his breath and energy sitting up. Dizziness began to overwhelm him, and the voices outside began to grow distant and muffled to his failing ears and consciousness. Bright sparkles of light exploded in his vision as coldness worked its way through his body again. Sensation in his arms and legs deadened, and despite the struggle he put up to remain conscious, all sensation ceased and he slumped as complete darkness descended upon him once more. 


	5. part 5

Faith struggled to keep up as the gunman pulled her along the rain-slicked streets that headed back to the warehouse. All the while, her mind sought possible ways to apprehend her extortionist without killing him or getting killed herself. She still had not come up with a solution to her dilemma when they reached the warehouse that was still crawling with police officers and emergency personnel.   
Guess I'll just have to wing it, she thought to herself and a flutter of anxiety spread throughout the inside of her abdomen. How could she possibly be in this situation? She surely must be dreaming.   
But the quick and painful jerk to her arm assured her that she was not sleeping, and she quickened her pace. They were back in the alley behind the warehouse where this whole nightmare had started. The gunman, who was still so careful to keep his face hidden from her, grabbed her police radio, switched it on and tuned it to a different channel. He then tuned another radio to the same channel, and handed hers back to her. With a dizzying flash of insight, Faith realized that her captor was holding Bosco's police radio in his hand.   
"You'll go in there now and get me my drugs," that sinister voice said to her matter-of-factly. "I'll be listening in on you, so be good now. I'll give you fifteen minutes to come back, but no longer than that. If you're not here within those fifteen minutes, I'll be gone and so will your partner. Do you understand?"   
Faith nodded. "Yes, I understand."   
"Good girl. Now go on."   
The hair on the back of Faith's neck raised as she walked into the warehouse; she could feel those dark and hidden eyes boring into her back.   
Sully was the first officer to approach her. He had a concerned look on his face, and she suddenly realized just how pale and bedraggled she must appear. She forced a smile to her face, and finally felt the first stirrings of a plan being born in her frantic mind.   
Sully was even more confused by the beaming smile than he had been by the pale and fearful expression he had observed on Yokas' face only moments before.   
"Hey. Everything alright, Faith?"   
"Oh yeah. Everything's just fine, Sully," Faith said brightly.   
"Are you sure, because you were looking a little ragged there for a minute."   
"Oh sure. I'm great. I just had a 2115 out in the back there that I thought I should check out. But it's all clear and all fine," Faith's tone was practically ecstatic, but inside she was pleading for Sully to understand that the phony code numbers and her strange behavior were significant. She hurried off in the direction of the upper balcony of the warehouse before Sully could make a questioning remark about the code.   
She walked through the warehouse in a seemingly nonchalant manner, but all the while she listened intently to the officers around her. She heard nothing, no scuffle of activity or quietly barked instructions that would give her reason to believe that Sully had understood her. Her heart was pounding painfully, and she was considering trying something different when she heard the loud report of a gunshot in the back alley.   
"Oh god, oh god, oh god," she repeated over and over to herself as she ran to the door leading back out into the dark night.   
Once she reached the alleyway, she could not quite allow herself to comprehend the implications of what she saw. The gunman was lying in the alleyway and was quickly losing blood from a gunshot wound in his chest. By the light of several police flashlights, she could finally see the face of Bosco's apprehender as it began to pale from blood loss.   
"Oh god, no!" she screamed as she ran to the criminal's side. She barely heard the other policemen muttering about someone running and how they had to shoot. All she could think about was Bosco alone and dying in some dark unknown place.   
The gunman was still conscious, but barely. In the distance, Faith heard an ambulance siren and cursed silently. Kim and Carlos must have been recalled from the warehouse. She quickly explored the chest wound and realized that there was no way help would arrive in time. In absolute agony, she heaved up the mortally wounded man by his shirt and forced him to look at her.   
"Where is he?!" she screamed into the man's face.   
A small and satisfied smile was the only answer the villain gave her before he died.   
  
***   
When Bosco next opened his eyes, he could not be certain that he had actually regained consciousness. His surroundings were so dark and most of his body was so numb, that he could discern no difference between waking and sleeping beyond the dull ache that was causing the back of his head quite a bit of pain. He heard a strange and strangled sound and was shocked to realize that it had come from his own mouth. That frail cry could not possibly have come from him! But with the noise many other sensations came rushing back to the injured man, and he had no further time to reflect on the weakness he had heard in himself. He wheezed as stabbing pain from his broken ribs interfered with his breathing, and that sound alarmed him far more than his initial outcry. Involuntarily, his body began to shiver violently as he began to feel the full effects of the blood loss he had suffered from the gunshot that he had received seemingly lifetimes ago.   
But the thing that worried and ate at him the most was the fact that he could see nothing around him. The darkness that enveloped him was complete, and his heart began to gallop with the all to familiar fear that was his constant companion when he was alone in the shadows. As his breathing became more labored and great sparks of white light began to swim before his eyes, Bosco considered surrendering to the physical pleas of his body. It would be just so much easier to drift away from consciousness and leave all this darkness and fear. He felt his eyes drooping with weariness, and his mouth curved at its edges into a small, relieved smile.   
But he suddenly jerked back to the dark world around him when he thought of how angry Faith would be if he just gave up like that. In fact, he wondered what had actually gotten him to thinking of escape since it was so against his nature to look for the easy way out of things. It must be the blood loss making my mind crazy, he told himself wryly. Again, he tried to think of what Faith would do in the same circumstances, and his fuzzy brain came up with a plan of action.   
He felt the area around his prone body to discover that he was in a relatively small room. The fear threatened to surge over him again when he realized just how cramped the room was, but he forced it down to a manageable level. Panicking had done nothing but render him unconscious the last time, and now he truly did not want to experience a repeat performance. Although he vaguely remembered losing consciousness the last time he tried to sit up, he thought that he could explore the gunshot wound more effectively by elevating himself somewhat. Taking his time and using up most of what strength he had left, Bosco slowly pulled himself to a sitting position against the wall that was closest to his back. It took him quite a while since he experienced great waves of dizziness with the slightest exertion and did not want to risk blacking out from movement that was too fast for his body to handle. When he finally was able to sit up, he prayed desperately that his body would be able to provide just the little bit of stamina he needed to discern how bad the injury to his hip was. Actually, he doubted very much that he could stay upright for long since the position drained what little energy he had left. But if he continued this line of thinking, he was going to let the fear overtake him, so he simply concentrated on exploring the wound.   
The bleeding had slowed, and Bosco was grateful for that since it meant that he might live a few minutes more. But he was still losing quite a bit of blood, and the bleeding had to be controlled. Not knowing what else to do, he slowly pulled at his uniform shirt in what turned out to be an exhausting and almost failed battle to take it off. When he did manage to strip the shirt off, he barely had the power that he needed to make a pressure bandage out of it and tie it around his hip with the sleeves. When he finished binding the wound as best he could, he had no energy left. Insulted by so many physical wounds, his body slouched against the wall, and alone and in the dark he was forced to concentrate solely on maintaining his harsh, raspy breathing. 


	6. part 6

Dark Places Part 6  
  
A Quick Word: I do not work in the medical field, and I know absolutely nothing about guns or gunshot wounds. For this reason, the medical references in this and further chapters may be faulty. Please do not flame me for these probable mistakes. I'm writing this story just for fun, and flaming is not fun for me. I don't mind constructive criticism, but I have a problem with being attacked for my honest mistakes. I was flamed before in another group, and I quickly lost interest in my story and in the group. So please...please...be nice to me! :) Thank-you! ~Emrys~  
  
Disclaimer: See previous installments.  
  
Faith stood over the body of the only person who knew where her partner was located and felt panic seep through her. Bosco was injured, perhaps critically and there was no way for her to find him. She looked down at the face of the killed man and was shocked to see that he was human after all. She viciously scolded herself for turning the man into an evil creature in her mind during the chaos of the last few hours. Rarely was she surprised anymore by the abilities of humans to do great harm, but this one had fooled her. His seemingly superhuman strength and his hold over Bosco had frightened her badly. She suddenly worried that the supernatural illusion that she had assigned the man had distracted her from acting in a way that could have saved her partner.   
Bosco. Where was he? Was he still alive? He had gotten himself into trouble so many times before, but she had always been there to help him. She felt powerless as she came to the sudden conclusion that there was no way she could help him now.   
"Faith!"  
A strong voice commanded her attention and she looked up to see Sully standing in front of her. He gently touched her arm and studied her panicked face.  
"Faith, where was the last place you saw him?" he asked gently.  
She forced herself to calm down and think carefully. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes in concentration.  
"Okay, okay. Let's go. I think I remember," she said as she took control of her emotions. She started walking quickly down the dark alley and without looking behind her, trusted that the others were following.  
  
***  
  
Despite the intense need he felt to remain conscious, Bosco was slowly losing the fight. Already he had sunk into a world where hallucinations and memories took over, and he struggled fiercely against them. In his dreams he fled from abuse, and he asked his mother all the questions he had been too scared to ask as a child.  
"Ma, why do you let him beat you like that?  
Mom, I don't want to go in there. It's dark in there. Why are you making me go in there? What did I do that was so wrong?   
Ma, he broke my arm. Why did you let him do that to me?  
Mom, how could you forget that I was in the closet all night long?  
Ma, can't we just go somewhere else where he won't be able to hurt us anymore?"  
Over and over he continued to mutter the many, many questions to which he had never found answers. And this was the state in which his co-workers eventually and finally found him.  
  
***  
Ty was the first to locate Bosco. Sully, Yokas, and he had been searching the area when they had stumbled over his blood trail. It took them only moments to find the building that housed Bosco, but locating the injured man in the shadow-filled, spacious structure appeared as if it might turn into a time-consuming activity. Faith had made a desperate sound when she realized just how difficult their search had become even though they were closer to Bosco than they had been previously. Sully had patted her gently on her back in an effort to comfort her, and Faith had taken a deep calming breath. With a nod, the three of them had split up in hopes of finding the lost man quickly.  
When Ty found the wounded man, Bosco's incoherent muttering had quieted to a dull whisper. Ty lunged toward him and started yelling frantically for Sully and Faith when he realized the extent of Bosco's wounds. In moments, Faith and Sully rushed into the cramped space, and Faith crouched down next to her partner. Ty backed off, and Sully yelled their position into his radio in order to notify an emergency medical team of Bosco's conditions and possible needs.  
Unsure of exactly what to do to help Bosco, Faith desperately studied him under the harsh rays of her flashlight. She saw the binding on his hip and bit her lip in anguish as she thought of him all alone and trying to stem the flow of blood that was still oozing from his wound. His chest was extensively bruised, and she saw more blood leaking from what must have been a horrible blow to his head. His ragged breathing became increasingly erratic as the seconds passed, and Faith could barely contain herself.  
"How long are they going to be?!" she cried out to Sully as she leaned over to put pressure on her partner's hip wound. Sully just gave her a grim look and then looked back down at Bosco. Faith felt tears well up into her eyes, and that was when she looked back down at Bosco and saw his mouth moving as it formed barely audible words. She bent down closer to him so that she could hear what he was saying, and when she heard his questions her tears began to flow freely.  
"Shhh, shhh," she soothed as she slowly began stroking Bosco's head with a free hand in an attempt to calm him. "It's gonna be alright, Bozz. You'll see. Just stay quiet and still, and everything will be okay."  
"All night! All...n..night i..in...there! How c..could you for...forget that I...I was there?" Bosco stuttered between his chattering teeth. His delirium worried Faith, and she desperately tried to think of what to do next.  
"What is he saying?" Ty asked curiously.  
"Nothing Davis," Faith hastily replied. The last thing Bozz would want was for all of his co-workers to know exactly what he had been through as a child. "He's cold and in shock. Can you find a blanket somewhere?"  
Eager to be of some use, Ty just nodded and dashed out of the room. Sully looked back to Faith in a way that communicated how useless he felt.  
"The ambulance should be here any minute. I'll go out front to meet it and bring the paramedics to him."  
Faith just nodded and wiped at the tears on her face with one hand while keeping the pressure on Bosco's hip with the other. When she saw that Sully had left, she turned back to Bosco and allowed a litany of comforting words pour over him.  
"All night," Bosco weakly mumbled again, and Faith again began to stroke the damp hair on his head.   
"I know, I know. It must have been horrible, Bozz," she said gently. She was relieved to see that he quieted down during her ministrations, and she concentrated on maintaining the pressure to his wound.  
Although in reality it must have taken the ambulance only a quarter of an hour to reach the scene, it felt like a lifetime to Faith. The feel of Bosco's blood leaking through her fingers was a distressing sensation that she never had wanted to experience, and she felt as if he was drifting further and further away from her with each drop that gathered on her hands. Despite the fact that she still felt anger towards Kim and Carlos for the nasty trick they earlier had played on Bosco, she had never been so happy to see them as when they emerged from the building's dark halls and entered the confined space that held Bosco's steadily weakening body.  
Carlos was the first to enter the room, and he was able to get a good look at Bosco in the illumination of the flashlight. The sight of Bosco so damaged stunned him and caused him to freeze and stare with shock.  
"Jesus," he said loudly.  
"Stop staring and do your job!" Faith yelled and suddenly realized that she was nearing a hysterical state. She was grateful when Kim pushed Carlos aside and crouched down to begin working on Bosco.  
Suddenly Carlos overcame his surprise and nudged away the hand that Faith had on her partner's injured hip. Upset, she was ready to make an angry retort, but he shook his head seriously.  
"I have to see what the damage is before we can help him. Get out of our way!"  
And so she was pushed none to gently aside and could only watch helplessly as the others attempted to save the life of her rowdy but suddenly lovable partner.  
  
***  
  
As soon as Faith was pushed to the side, Bosco became distressed. Beyond any capability to feel the pain of his wounds, he began to thrash his legs in an effort to get away from the hands he feverishly perceived as abusive.   
"Get off...of...me you....b...bastard!" he began to wheeze. "Lemme...lemme go."  
His continued struggling was weak at best, but it was enough to alarm Carlos.  
"Calm down!" he yelled impatiently. "Christ, Kim the ilium is completely shattered, and he's going to start losing a lot more blood if we can't get him calmed down," he reported to his partner. "It looks like he's got damage to the iliac artery, and if that becomes any more severe he'll bleed out what little is left in him. Yokas! Come here and hold him down!"  
Grateful to do anything useful, Faith crouched down beside her partner and clutched at his hand and unharmed leg. She continued her quiet stream of verbal reassurances and felt a slight surge of hope when Bosco was pacified enough that Kim and Carlos could assess and treat him. Deftly, Kim placed an oxygen mask on the officer's face, and then started to search for an IV site. She found one within seconds and began placing the line in.  
"I've got a line in him," Kim suddenly announced and reached out her arm to Carlos without looking up from her patient. "Hand me over the fluids."  
"God, how much blood do you think he's lost?" Carlos asked as he did what was asked of him.  
Kim lifted her head long enough to look fleetingly at the floor around them and shrug.  
"Too much," she stated in a business-like manner. She handed her stethoscope over to Carlos. "Watch his pulse while I set up the monitor."  
When Kim glanced at the floor, Faith suddenly became aware of the sticky puddle that she was kneeling in and wondered why it had escaped her attention before. In horror she realized that Bosco's blood darkened a large area of the floor. Occurring simultaneously with her realization, Bosco's body suddenly slackened. Kim hurriedly set up the heart monitor and paddles, and a low and even tone filled the musty air around them.  
"I just lost his pulse!" Carlos warned.  
Faith felt a panicked scream creep up from her belly and into her throat, but somehow she managed to keep it clamped firmly between her teeth.  
"Don't you dare, Bosco!" she harshly whispered instead. 


	7. part 7

Hi everyone! Okay, Debbie, I know that I promised this as a Christmas present, but I hope you don't mind if it's a little late! Here's the seventh part to my little fic, and I hope you all enjoy it. Again, I want to say that I have absolutely NO CLUE when it comes to medical matters, so please, please don't flame me for all of the mistakes that I am sure are obvious to some of you. I'm just trying to have some fun here...nothing too serious!  
  
Disclaimer: See previous installments.  
  
Dark Places Part 7  
  
It was late, and the quiet whooshing sound of the ventilator threatened to lull her to sleep. Considering the drama of the evening, Faith felt as if she would never regain her strength. After Bosco's vital signs had plummeted in that cold, dark warehouse, she had looked on helplessly while Carlos and Kim pushed medications and fluids through his blood vessels and were ultimately forced to shock his overburdened heart into beating just a little longer. The ambulance drive had been harrying at best while Kim and Faith did what they could to maintain Bosco until they reached the hospital ER. What they could do to aid the stricken man seemed miserably little in Faith's estimation.  
And then it had been a matter of quiet waiting. Waiting to see if he would survive the ER. Waiting to see if he would survive surgery. Waiting to see if he would regain consciousness.  
Faith passed a hand over her face and inhaled deeply and shakily while she sunk down into the hard wooden chair next to Bosco's bedside. She looked at the external stabilizer that they had placed around the wound to Bosco's hip and wondered what that injury would bring. She recognized the broken pelvis as a possible one-way ticket to desk duty, and she knew that as ambitious as Bosco was, he would not be able to survive that future. She guessed that information regarding the state of Bosco's career was just another thing she would have to wait on, but she personally didn't mind where he ended up. Anywhere in the precinct or even out of it was fine with her as long as he survived his current condition.  
She had tried to contact Bosco's mother, but it had been impossible to reach her. The only person who had her phone number was currently unconscious and unable to communicate any information. She had called Fred to tell him what had happened; they had ended up arguing about something, but she couldn't remember what it had been about.  
Faith looked at the oddity of the respirator tube emerging out of her partner's half-opened and taped up mouth and had to abruptly turn away. As it turned out, it hadn't been the pelvic injury or the head injury that had caused the most danger to Bozz; it was the injury to his ribs that had eventually damaged one of his lungs and was now threatening him the most. The doctors had explained to her that they could not complete repairs to his hip until his condition had stabilized, and he needed to be pushing more oxygen through his lungs before they would reconsider advancing his status past critical. Consciousness also would definitely help the situation, but there was little hope that Bosco would awaken before morning. She should go home; she had Fred and the kids to see to. Fred wanted her home, and she now remembered that this is what they had argued about earlier. But she couldn't leave Bosco, not after all that had happened to him. She was determined to wait until he woke up, but god, she was so tired. She closed her eyes and slumped further in the chair as the steady whooshing of the ventilator finally did soothe her to sleep.  
  
***  
Awareness came slowly, in small, painful increments. Light stabbed his consciousness first, and then came an insistent agony in his hip that he would soon discover was incessant and impossible to ignore. Finally there blossomed a fire in his lungs and an intense soreness in his throat. Of all of his discomforts, this was the one that troubled him the most, and he coughed in an effort to relieve the pain and clear his throat. He succeeded only in gagging which increased his discomfort and brought him crashing all the way back into consciousness.  
He was suffocating, smothering! Panic overwhelmed him and impelled him to reach up to claw at his throat. He had to clear it!  
Someone grabbed his hand, and he struggled against their grasp. Vaguely he felt the gentle stroking of a hand on his forehead. He calmed a bit and was able to concentrate on the individual sitting next to him.  
"Bosco, settle down! It's okay now. You're safe!"  
Bosco attempted to focus his vision a bit, and he recognized Faith and the protective image that she was projecting. She was wearing her all too common maternal visage, and he calmed a bit. The image blurred suddenly, but he tried to ask her what had happened by sending her a questioning look.  
"You were hurt Bosco," Faith told him. She sounded like she was talking through two miles of water, but he was able to understand her.  
He instinctively tried to sigh deeply as he took in this information and ended up gagging again. Anger flared through him, and he tried to ask her what was wrong with his throat. But vocalizing the question seemed impossible, and this only increased his frustration. Furiously, he pointed to his mouth and throat with the hand that she was not forcing down and gestured frantically.  
"It's okay, Bozz," Faith replied through all of that water. "The doctors had to put you on a ventilator, and there's a tube down your throat. I'll go get someone now, and maybe we can pull it out. You gonna be okay for a second?"  
Actually, he wasn't sure if he would be okay without her even for a second, but he really, really wanted the tube out of his throat. He closed his eyes briefly and then weakly waved to her to convey that he wanted her to find the doctor.  
"Alright, I'll be right back," Faith said, and she then stood up and moved out of his line of vision.  
He must have drifted off, because he was unaware of the time that it took her to find the doctor. One moment she was gone, the next she was back discussing something with some other person. He made the tremendous effort to focus on what they were saying and was suddenly unhappy with this new person.  
"His oxygen levels are better, Officer Yokas, but I'm not quite sure that they're high enough yet to warrant taking him off the vent. I'd feel safer keeping him on the respirator for another day."  
Absolutely not! There was no way he was putting up with this for even another minute more! He rapped the bed as hard as he could, which turned out to be not very hard at all, but it got their attention. He felt the anger express itself in his eyes, and he motioned to his throat. Out! Right now! OUT! He didn't care what the consequences were; hell, he didn't even know what the consequences were. But that tube was coming out if he had to pull it out himself.  
Faith raised an eyebrow, and for the first time all night a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Bosco was making himself loud and clear to her.  
"Doc, you better pull it out or else he's gonna take it out himself," she said, echoing his thoughts.   
He knew that if the tube had not been in the way, a small, smug, and self-satisfied smile would be tugging at his own mouth.  
***  
It took only seconds to remove the tube. Bosco could only be relieved at its absence despite the doctor's obvious hesitation and wariness. An oxygen mask covered most of his face, and the pressure of it actually caused his head to swim a bit worse, but he felt much more comfortable. Faith also was relieved that the tube was out of his throat; she desperately wanted to hear the sound of her partner's voice and reassure herself of his conscious presence.  
"How you doing, Bozz?" she asked quietly.  
"Been....better," he rasped. His voice was muffled from the mask, but Faith understood him anyway.  
"Yeah," she said, and tears welled up in her eyes. She furiously blinked them away.  
"Okay..." he managed to say reassuringly in between his painful breaths. "I'm...okay. It's light...in here. Not dark...Much...better."  
The strangled sound of the intense relief in his voice was enough to make her tears return as she again imagined the terror he must have experienced in that horribly lightless building.  
"You better be okay, Bozz. I went through hell to find you. I don't know why I bother," she joked in an effort to hide her own fear.  
Bosco smiled behind the mask, and then coughed violently. Immediately she was there, hovering and trying to help him.  
He waved her off.  
"I'm...okay. Won't...break."  
But abruptly his eyes lost their focus, and Faith had the sudden thought that he had spoken out of turn. Bosco weakly coughed again, and slowly his body slackened.   
"Bosco?" she asked with the beginnings of panic edging her tone.  
A monitor started to beep, and she flew out of the room in search of a nurse.  
  
***  
The whooshing noise had returned to replace the sound of her partner's voice as well as his conscious presence. Faith was near desperation again.  
"What happened?" she asked the doctor.  
"His lung is still too damaged to maintain his oxygen levels. His brain became deprived of oxygen, and he simply passed out. I know it's hard to accept, Officer Yokas, but he needs the ventilator right now."  
Faith bowed her head, and gazed discouragingly down at Bosco's inanimate form. The doctor placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.  
"The fact that he regained consciousness is a good sign. Give it time," he took in her stressed and tired features and patted her shoulder gently. "You should go get something to eat and then rest a little. Go home Officer Yokas. The hospital will call you if his condition changes again."  
"No, I'm going to stay here," she said in a tone that made the doctor feel silly for even suggesting otherwise.  
She sat in her uncomfortable chair...and waited. 


	8. part 8

Hi Everyone! I just wanted to thank you all for the wonderful feedback I've received regarding   
this fic! As any fanfic writer knows, it's what keeps me writing. I'm sorry that I've been   
continuing Dark Places sporadically, but real life has been getting in the way (don't you hate it   
when that happens?). This is a short installment, but I figured I owed another chapter (plus   
Debbie has started getting on my case! Thanks Deb for keeping me going!), so here it is. Oh, by   
the way…there's yet more Bosco angst in here…generated by my sick and weird mind. Makes   
me a little nervous when I see what my mind can come up with….  
  
  
Dark Places Part 8  
  
Disclaimer: See previous installments.  
  
This time, awareness came to him instantaneously. One moment he had been dreaming   
about his father throwing him against the kitchen wall of the cramped apartment of his   
childhood; in the next, his vision had widened to encompass the contents of a strange room and   
Faith's blurry but concerned face looking down at him. It took only an instant for him to   
recognize the strangling presence of the ventilator tube, and he glared at her furiously. The look   
of concern on his partner's face immediately turned to one of apology. It seemed his   
circumstances had not changed, except…now his nose felt stuffed up. What now? Was his luck   
so bad that he had managed to catch a cold while he was unconscious?  
He crinkled his nose, and the pressure in it caused his eyes to water. What the hell was   
going on?  
Faith steadied him with a pointed look and smiled encouragingly at him.   
"I know Bosco, I know. They had to keep you on the ventilator. You crashed about five   
minutes after they took you off it the last time, and you've been out of it ever since."  
Bosco had a second to wonder how long "ever since" really was before a twinge in his   
nose made him want to sneeze. He put a hand up to rub at it and stopped when he found another   
tube there.  
Again, Faith easily understood the question foremost in her partner's mind without him   
having to vocalize it.  
"You started vomiting about twelve hours back, Bozz. The doctors said it had something   
to do with your concussion. But you were choking, because everything was getting caught up in   
the ventilator tube, so they put another tube down your nose and into your stomach to suction out   
all of your stomach contents before you throw it all up." She neglected to tell him that she had   
been the one to find him choking and gagging. She had just stepped out of the room to go to the   
bathroom, and when she returned the sight of him had caused her to panic. She had kept her wits   
about her long enough to get a doctor, but she never wanted to live that particular slice of life   
over again if she could at all help it.  
A wave of despair flowed over Bosco, and he pushed it violently away. So what if he   
had tubes sticking out of every possible hole in his head? It wasn't like he was dying or   
anything, right? He'd recover from this…eventually. The pain he felt everywhere made him   
question his own insistent thinking, and he lay still for a moment as he tried to think of a way to   
ask Faith all the questions that he had for her.  
But again, Faith's thoughts were perfectly in sync with his own. She smiled warmly and   
reached down and out of his field of view. When her face returned, he saw that she was holding   
up a small chalkboard.  
"Sully and Davis heard that you were back on the ventilator, and so they brought this for   
you," she explained. "They figured that you would feel better if you had some way of pissing   
everyone off with your words as you are so often trying to do," her smile softened her words into   
a joke.  
He grabbed the board, scribbled "I don't try to piss people off!" and then handed it back   
to Faith.  
Her snort of laughter argued otherwise, and she smiled broadly at him. "Okay, you're   
right. You don't try to piss people off…you actually succeed in pissing people off!"  
He grabbed the board back, and this time he wrote "Low Blow!" Faith laughed again   
when he showed her the words, and the sound of it made both of them feel better. The two of   
them knew that if Faith was able to laugh at any part of this situation, then things could only   
improve.  
Bosco began to feel a certain measure of weakness and pain creep through him, and he   
decided he had better get the information he wanted before he didn't have the strength to listen to   
the answers. As quickly as he could in his shaky condition, he wrote a succession of questions   
and showed them to Faith.  
Faith suddenly became serious as she looked at his questions and put a hand on his   
shoulder to steady him.  
"Like I said, Bosco. You've got a bad concussion, a punctured lung, two broken ribs,   
and a bullet fractured your pelvis. You're also recovering from some severe blood loss."  
Bosco closed his eyes as he heard the list of his injuries and felt that wave of despair   
return. When Faith gently squeezed his shoulder, he opened his eyes in response and tried as   
well as he could to smile a cocky smile.  
"As far as your other questions," she said gently, "You've been out of it for over 24   
hours. It's 3 A.M., and no, you're not in the same room you were in the last time. They decided   
to move you to I.C.U. until your breathing stabilized a bit more, because the damage to your lung   
is worse than they had initially thought. Actually, they were worried at first that the vomiting   
had destabilized your ribs and re-punctured your lung, but that wasn't the case. It hasn't been a   
fun day," she conceded with a haunted look in her eyes.  
Her words made him increasingly more tired, and he suddenly felt too exhausted to   
continue any sort of conversation. He still had many questions for her, but he let the chalkboard   
drop from his hand as he felt his eyelids droop involuntarily.   
"Go to sleep, Bosco. You need your rest. I'll get the doctor and tell him that you woke   
up for a while, but you should sleep while you can." Her words caused him to focus on her once   
again, and with a flash of insight he realized that she also was exhausted. Had she been here   
with him the whole time?  
With a great effort, he lifted the chalkboard and asked her how long she had been at the   
hospital with him.  
"Don't worry about me, Bozz," she replied. "You need to concentrate on yourself."  
With strength he didn't realize he possessed, he wrote "Fred?" on the board. The board   
fell from his grasp again, and he couldn't find the energy to pick it back up.  
"Shhhh. Bozz. Go back to sleep. Fred and I worked something out. You rest."  
He knew she was hiding something from him, but the demands of his body precluded any   
chance he had of continuing the conversation. He fought against sleep, but was successful only   
for a moment before his vision blurred further and then became focused once more on his world   
of nightmarish dreams. 


	9. part 9

Disclaimer: See previous installments.  
  
Dark Places part 9  
  
Faith woke with a jolt as her head slipped off the support of her hand. It took her only a   
moment to remember where she was, and as she stretched her painfully cramped back, she   
looked over at Bosco's sleeping form. She felt a few vertebrae pop and silently cursed the   
straight-backed chair. If she were smart, she would request a cot or a bed since it didn't look as   
if she would be sleeping at home any time soon.  
After three days, the doctors had finally deemed Bosco's lungs healed enough to be able   
to handle breathing without aid of the ventilator. Faith had never been so relieved to hear her   
partner's raspy voice begin one of his signature ranting tirades as she had in the moments after   
the ventilator tube had been removed from his throat. Even the familiar feeling of   
embarrassment that she always had when Bosco went off on something or someone was not   
strong enough to keep her from laughing happily at that time.  
But he still had a long way to go. The NG tube had remained after Bosco continued to   
experience intense bouts of nausea, and the doctors weren't sure when they would be able to   
operate on his pelvis. He was still fighting extraordinary pain, and Faith was also aware that he   
was facing psychological difficulties now as well.  
She sighed heavily as she thought back on the evening before when she had woken to   
find her partner struggling with an intense nightmare. She hadn't been surprised to discover that   
he was having nightmares, because he had, after all, been through an ordeal that anyone would   
find difficult to manage. But what had alarmed her was that Bosco maintained that he was fine   
and that, with the exception of his resulting physical weaknesses the whole incident didn't bother   
him.   
She would have to find a way to get him to admit to the problem, but right now she was   
too tired to figure out the best way to do that. She yawned, and then looked at the clock on the   
wall to see that it was late, but not so late that she would wake Fred up if she called him. The   
two of them continued to argue about her prolonged vigil with Bosco, but she felt as if she at   
least owed her husband a phone call. She knew that they would only stop arguing when she was   
no longer sleeping at the hospital, but she still could not bring herself to leave her partner's side.   
It might have been a slightly different story if only she could contact Boz's mother, but the   
woman had apparently gone to Atlantic City without telling any of her family members. Sully   
had asked around at several bars before someone had told him of her whereabouts, and they were   
still searching for her in New Jersey but to no avail yet.  
She was standing up to leave the room and walk to the pay phones that were located   
down the hall when she saw Bosco shudder violently. Suddenly, sweat broke out on his   
forehead, and his eyes snapped open. He was visibly trembling, and she quickly went to his side.  
"Bosco! Bosco! Are you okay? What's wrong?!"  
Bosco stared at her without recognition for a few seconds before she saw him rapidly   
blink his eyes. He took a deep and shaky breath, and then she saw his eyes clear.  
"Faith?" he asked in a quiet and strained voice.  
"Yeah, Boz. It's me. You okay?" She had a sudden wish to smooth his hair back as she   
did with her children when they were sick, but she restrained herself.  
"Yeah," he said and then grimaced with pain. "My hip hurts a little, is all," he continued   
sleepily.  
"It's about time for your painkiller. I'll notify one of the nurses." She moved away from   
his bed, but then hesitated. "Bosco, did you have a nightmare?" she asked cautiously.  
"Hmmm? A what? What? A nightmare. No. My leg just hurts, that's all."  
Faith knew he was lying because he couldn't bring himself to look at her when he   
answered. He kept his eyes fixed firmly on the darkness outside the window of the room.  
"Boz, you know, it's normal to have nightmares and other emotional after-effects after   
what you've been through. Maybe you should…"  
"I'm fine Faith!" Bosco interrupted angrily. "Jeez. It's not as if I'm dying or anything."  
"But you almost did, Boz! You can't tell me that you aren't experiencing any problems   
dealing with that or with the situation that lead you to this hospital room! You haven't even   
asked me what happened after you lost consciousness. You can't stay in denial forever, Boz!   
You're going to have to talk to someone about it eventually or you'll never…"  
Suddenly, Bosco turned his gaze on her.  
"Never what, Faith? Never get over it? Believe me. I've gotten over plenty in my life,   
and on my own I might add! I'll handle it, you just have to trust…" his voice, fragile since   
coming off the ventilator, gave out and he couldn't continue.  
"Okay, Boz. Okay." Faith soothed. "I'll leave it alone…for now. Let me get a nurse for   
you."  
He coughed and then nodded. His hip was killing him, and he really wanted the   
painkiller. He couldn't wait to get out of the hospital bed and start concentrating on getting   
physically fit again. He wanted to get back on the job as soon as possible so that he could put   
this terrible nightmare behind him.  
It was only a minute or two before Faith returned with a nurse who quickly administered   
the shot that soon had him feeling less pain but more drowsiness. He fought sleep for a while as   
he considered his partner. He felt guilty for yelling back at Faith, especially after all that she had   
done for him. He didn't deserve all of her attention right now, particularly since she was   
neglecting her family at the same time as she was tending to him.  
"Faith, how long has it been since you went home to see Fred and the kids?" he asked in   
a voice slurred by the medication.  
"It's okay, Bosco. You shouldn't be worrying about that right now. Go to sleep," Faith   
said as she placed a comforting hand on his chest.  
His eyes drooped closed, but he fought to open them again.  
"Faith, c'mon. Three days, a' least? Right?"  
She chuckled. "Four, actually."  
"Go home, Faith. It's o…kay."   
"Bosco, I don't want to leave you right now. I've talked to the kids on the phone, and   
they understand. Really, they do. They just want you to be okay, and they know why I want to   
be here."  
Bosco wasn't so tired that he didn't notice that she hadn't mentioned Fred. But he was   
rapidly losing his fight against sleep, and he had to make his point as quickly and effectively as   
possible.  
"Go home, Faith. Take a shower…you're starting to smell…." He said, and with a   
breathy sigh, he lost his fight against sleep.  
Faith laughed openly and finally gave in to her impulse to smooth his hair back.  
"Bosco, you're such a character," she chuckled to herself. But after some consideration,   
she knew he was right. She had to get back to her family if only for a few hours. They needed   
her, too. She looked down on her partner's sleeping form for a moment longer and a worried   
crease etched itself between her brows. She only wished that he would admit that he needed help   
dealing with the after-effects of his ordeal. She smoothed his hair back a bit longer and then   
gave him a brief kiss on his forehead.   
She'd leave tonight, but she would be back before he woke in the morning, she decided   
firmly. 


	10. part 10/finis

Disclaimer: See previous installments.  
  
Dark Places part 10/story ending  
  
Bosco gritted his teeth against the pain as it tore its way across his hip. Sweat instantly   
broke out on his face, and the waves of nausea that rolled their way through him caused him to   
double over. His injured leg collapsed beneath him, and he groaned as strong arms grabbed him.  
The surgery on his hip had been bad. Really bad. But nothing could have prepared him   
for the difficulties that faced him after the slice and dice. All he wanted to do was walk, and he   
could barely make two pitiful baby steps a reality without falling on his face. For a moment he   
became resigned to a desk job, but then anger took over, and he grabbed at the walker and   
brushed off the supporting hands.  
"I can do it by myself," he growled furiously at Faith who was hovering over him with   
disapproval evident on her face.  
"Bosco, maybe you should…" she began warningly, but was interrupted as Bosco   
crumpled to the floor, and she had to catch him again.  
"Bosco, you're overdoing it!" she yelled at him. "The physical therapist said you could   
try walking, but I have it on good authority that she said it only because she wanted to stop your   
complaining and knew you couldn't do it yet. I don't think she understands how stubborn you   
are."  
"I can do it," Bosco insisted between deep gulps of air. The nausea continued to pound   
its way through him, and it took all his will power to keep the small lunch he had eaten down in   
his stomach where it belonged.  
"Yeah, sure you can, just look at you," Faith snorted derisively. "And next week you'll   
be running the NY marathon."  
Bosco shifted his head up to give her a dirty look, but the movement only made the   
nausea worse, and he closed his eyes and allowed his head to sag. He felt…defeated.  
"I need to lie down," he said raspily.  
  
***  
Once he was settled back in his hospital bed, Bosco felt foolish. Faith was right when   
she said that he was overdoing it, but he wanted his life back, and he wanted it back   
immediately. He wanted to get back to being a police officer patrolling the streets and doing   
something useful. The surgery, as horrible as it had been, had been a complete success, and he   
was expected to make a full recovery. That meant, if he played his cards right, he wasn't   
doomed to being a desk jockey for the rest of his life. But it also meant time and patience would   
have to be the emphasis for him for a little while. Unfortunately, time and patience were not part   
of his vocabulary.  
He closed his eyes as another wave of pain and nausea hit, and he mulled over the   
positive points to being patient and taking time. Maybe there was something to it, he decided as   
his stomach clenched yet again.  
"I'm gonna be sick," he moaned miserably, and Faith quickly reached for an emesis   
basin. She thrust it into his hands just in time, and he violently retched into it. Faith rubbed his   
back as he vomited, and her brows creased with concern. If he kept on overdoing it, he was   
going to end up with another tube up his nose, she thought.  
After he was finished with the emesis basin, Bosco leaned back in the bed and closed his   
eyes. Faith noticed a fine sheen of perspiration coating his face, and she studied him carefully as   
she wiped it away with a damp cloth. It was only three days after his surgery, and she could see a   
definite improvement. But the nausea (still due to his head injury, according to the doctors, but   
Faith was beginning to believe it was a side effect of one of the medications) continued, and   
when he was in pain it always landed him back in bed with the emesis basin. He really was   
trying too hard to put the entire experience behind him without dealing with it, and she continued   
to worry about his emotional well-being.  
"Bosco," she said cautiously. "Do you ever think that maybe you're over-compensating   
by trying to do too much physically?"  
"Huh?" he asked with his eyes still closed. "Faith, you know I don't get that psycho   
babble. What the hell are you trying to say?"  
"It's just that, well, uh…" This was so difficult! She didn't know how to discuss his   
mental health without him becoming ballistic. But there was no sense stopping now. "Well,   
Boz. Maybe you're trying so hard to get into physical shape, because you just don't want to deal   
with the emotional effects of all that happened to you," she suggested bluntly.  
Bosco opened one eye and looked at her warily. She was not doing this now, was she?   
Not now when he felt so weak and so completely sick.   
"Faith," he said with an unmistakable warning in his tone.  
"No, I'm serious, Boz. You're practically killing yourself doing these little stunts like   
you just did. You're pushing yourself too hard physically, and yet you keep denying that you   
need any sort of therapy at all. I mean, god Bosco! If I had gone through what you went   
through, I'd need to speak to a shrink every day! There is just no way that you can handle all of   
this on your own!"  
It felt good to yell about this, because she was tired of placating him by avoiding the   
subject. Avoidance had not kept his nightmares at bay, and he needed some sense beaten into   
him.  
Bosco opened his other eye, and stared at her quietly for a moment. Damn! She was   
actually starting in on him now.  
"Faith," he growled angrily, "I'm going to say this once, and then I don't want to talk   
about it again. I am not "over-compensating" or whatever the hell it is you called it. I just want   
to get back to work as soon as possible so that I can put this whole god-awful situation behind   
me. I want to get bad guys and lock them up. I want to walk, for Christ's sake! That's all there   
is to it, I promise!  
"I will go to the police assigned therapist when they force me to go. I will say exactly   
what the therapist wants to hear so that I can get out of there in the fastest way possible, and I   
have no intention of seeking out any other professional help. I told you once before that I've   
gotten over plenty in my life without going into therapy, and I'll get over this too."  
"But Boz, those nightmares that you have. They're horrible! Don't you want to deal   
with all of that stuff?" Faith pleaded.  
"I've had nightmares my entire life, Faith. They're nothing. I get by."  
"Nothing! Are you crazy?" Faith replied. "God, Boz. Don't you want more out of your   
life than just getting by?"  
"I have more in my life than I ever expected, Faith. I've damn well got more than the   
rest of my family has, and that makes me realize just how lucky I am. So yeah, I might have   
overdone it today, and I might overdo it again tomorrow. But it's not because I'm trying to run   
away from something; in fact, I'm running to something. I'm happy with my life, and I just want   
it back. My way. My terms. Just like it's always been."  
Faith looked down at her partner and saw the determination in his eyes. He wasn't   
averting them from her this time, and it was evident that he was being truthful with her. She   
realized suddenly that he had been working hard on his own in putting everything that had   
happened to him in perspective. Not for the first time, she found herself surprised by his   
strength. She never could have handled herself as well as he had and continued to do under the   
circumstances. He was still as stubborn and proud as ever, but he was going to be okay. With a   
great sigh of relief, she allowed her worry to subside. He really was going to be okay, and with   
time she would have her partner back.  
"Okay, Boz. Okay. You win," she said with a chuckle.  
"Well thank god for small favors. Now maybe you'll get off my back and let me sleep. I   
feel like crap. I swear, you women and your need to talk. Yap, yap, yap. That's all you do! All   
that yammering gives me a headache!" he mumbled as sleep began to overtake him.  
Faith smiled down at him, knowing that he was just trying to irritate her.  
"I'll forgive you for that seeing how you're a little under the weather Boz. But you say   
something so chauvinistic to me when you're feeling better, I'll send you back to this hospital."   
She lowered herself into the damnable wooden chair to watch over her partner as he slept. She   
saw his breathing slow and become regular, and she settled herself even further into the stiff and   
uncomfortable edges of the chair.  
But Bosco surprised her one more time by popping his eyes open.  
"Faith…"  
"Yeah, Boz. I'm right here. What's wrong? You okay?" she asked anxiously.  
"One more thing. I'm not handling this all alone, and I'm really thankful for that. You   
know?"  
She was touched by the rare sentiment of his words, and she smiled back at him.  
"Now I do, Boz."  
"Good," he said, and with a satisfied grin on his face he closed his eyes again. "Now go   
home, Faith. And I mean it."   
Within seconds, he was asleep, and Faith remained by his side. She was struck again by   
his strength, and she felt grateful tears well up into her eyes. She kissed his forehead and,   
smiling, left the room.  
  
  
  
Author's Note:  
I realize that parts of this fic sort of mimic ideas presented in recent television episodes,   
but I honestly had come to the conclusion that there would be no big Bosco breakdown in this fic   
before everything occurred in the show. I know that some of you are probably disappointed, but   
this is the way my mind's eye saw this fic ending, and I couldn't write it any other way.  
In case you're curious, I have another fic started in my head (using my Bosco who went   
through all of this hell in Dark Places; it will also deal with the effects Faith's devotion to Bosco   
had on her marriage), and I'll probably start writing it soon (I just need to get it set a little bit   
more solidly in my head).  
I do apologize for being a slow updater. My life this year is very, very busy, and it makes   
it hard to update regularly. So to all of you who have patiently (or not so patiently) waited for   
each installment of my fic, I just wanted to thank you for reading it. And for those of you who   
have left me feedback, you have my deepest gratitude, because it's nice to hear nice things about   
something you've created. Thank you all!  
~~Emrys 


End file.
